Posted on by lgandre

Driving School

The room was full of 15 year old kids. All the girls were wearing the exact same style of short gym shorts. Most of them had their hair up in a messy bun, but a few had it hanging down in their face where they could flip it over their shoulder every so often.

By contrast—I was wearing—actually, I don’t really remember what I was wearing. It didn’t matter. It was a Saturday. I was across town serving a sentence.   It wasn’t as if I was trying to impress the row of boys trying to get their driver’s licenses.

He started by having them go around the room and state their name and what school they are from. “Wando” teen after teen said, naming the local public school.

Then he got to the two whispering, gum cracking girls in the middle. “B-E” They both said.

I figured out B-E stood for Bishop England—a nearby catholic school where the tuition is so astronomical that you pretty much have to be astronaut smart to make it worthwhile. They did not come across as astronaut smart. But here I am, judging.

“I went to B-E.” The 50-something teacher said.   “That was back when it was taught by nuns. They used to whack us with rulers if we didn’t behave.”

The wanna be astronauts did not look impressed. They have probably never been whacked with rulers. But here I am, judging again.

“It isn’t so bad…” one girl admitted. “If it wasn’t for the uniforms. And all the rules.” She said with emphasis.

They are not going to be astronauts.

Then he got to me. Instead of stating my school, he had me state my crime. I guess the fact I was not in short gym shorts gave away the fact that I was twice the age of this room full of fresh, new accidents waiting to happen.

I got a ticket for going 67 in a 55.

My first ticket. Ever.

In Wise County, Virginia.

Where they give out tickets like participation ribbons.

And hate passers by.

And don’t care about tourism.

Or the economy.

Or my insurance premiums.

Or my feelings.

Or my bad day.

Of course, I didn’t say all that, just my name and my crime.

For 16 years I could have been the poster child for the ACE driving course. But that all ended in one bad day when I became a victim of the Virginia conspiracy. And here I was—having shelled out attorney’s fees, court fees, driving school fees—spending 8 hours on a sacred Saturday listening to a man who was bitter about being hit by a ruler 40 years ago.

And the teens were looking at me with faces that said—I will never be the old person sitting in the back of the room stating my name and my crime to a room full of cool teenagers.

Okay, well then, my advice to you, O wise ones, is this: stay out of Wise County, Virginia.

A college girl sitting next to me similarly had to confess: believe it or not, she also got her first ticket driving through Wise County, Virginia. Were you listening, astronauts? This is proving to be the most important thing you’ll hear all day.

He handed us each a booklet full of blanks to fill in and started up a power presentation. Vaguely, in the back of my mind, there were faint memories forming. My first few times behind the wheel. A few more gray hairs on my dad’s head.

I remember one driving moment well—

Dad: Danielle, slow down.

Me: But Dad, the speed limit is 45.

Dad: Danielle, the driver in front of you is going 35.

He had a point. Too bad he didn’t also tell me to stay out of Virginia.

It was one of the longest days of my life. I decided that before the lunch break. I decided that before 10:00 am. There is nothing like being in a room full of 15 year olds to make you feel like you need to stop on the way home and get measured for dentures.

When a question starts with “Like, okay…well…like, I mean, like…okay…” You just know it isn’t going to be a question that you need to hear the answer to.  I felt sorry for the teacher who, after this exciting day, was going to be doing behind the wheel with these teens. I might rather be hit with a ruler by nuns.

He tried to get their e-mail addresses and some of them looked at him with those looks that say… “What? Do you think this is like 2005 or something?”

I tried to stay awake. I really did. The teacher methodically plodded through the material. How to change lanes. When to change lanes.

Then he started talking about drinking and driving. I suspect that sometimes the old people in the back of the room are serving a more serious sentence than I. I thought perhaps it was for my benefit or the college girl next to me.

But apparently not.

“I know you guys are going to drink.” Mind you, he was a retired cop. “I know you’re going to party. I know you’re going to do what kids do.”

And then he started on the whole “don’t drink and drive: it might kill you” scare.

I was really sad. I was sad because he told those kids that he expected them to break the law. He expected them to get drunk. He expected them to spend their teen years doing stupid, foolish, and even illegal things. Other kids did, so these kids would too. He was just hoping that they would avoid dying in the process. And it would be good if, in addition to not killing themselves, they avoided killing other responsible drivers.

That was his advice to them.

I could hardly keep my mouth shut. I wanted to get up and preach. Don’t set your bar so low. Don’t make it your boundary not to get in a car so drunk that you won’t make it home alive. Don’t treat the law like it is subject to a popularity contest.

Do the right thing. Being a teenager doesn’t give you a pass. Being a teenager doesn’t free you of other consequences of sin. Believe it or not, dying in a car wreck isn’t the only potential hazard of alcohol. And alcohol isn’t really the issue. The issue is the mindset that you can do whatever you want…So we have to try to convince you that you don’t want to drink and drive or undertake other harmful behaviors.

Why can’t we ask teenagers to do right because it right? Why can’t we set the standard a little higher than “don’t kill yourself and others?” Regardless of the dangers, regardless of the consequences, regardless of what everyone else is doing, do the right thing. That’s why God created the concept of authority, so you would know what the right thing is. When you reach a place in life when you wish people would tell you what to do and what not to do, then you are probably mature enough to start making your own decisions.

And for Pete’s sake, if you are the authority, tell a kid to do right.

When the officer pulled me over, he didn’t care that I was driving with the flow of traffic. He held me to the standard of the law. Admittedly, I didn’t like that. But that’s life and teenagers need to understand that just as well as adults. Anything less is chaos.

I suppose the teacher that day meant well. He was probably just afraid of sounding like a crabby nun waiving a ruler. He wanted the teens to feel like he understood them. So he encouraged them toward foolish behavior—as long as they stopped short of wrapping their new cars around the Charleston oak trees.

And I suppose, if I had been given the opportunity to rant from the back of the room, they would have regarded me like a crabby nun waiving a ruler. But I cared about them. Not just that they stayed alive, but that they did right.

So there you have it. I’m preaching to myself again: Do the right thing. Doing right will avoid all the consequences of doing wrong—not only the most severe—and it brings its own rewards.

And in case you make a mistake, stay out of Wise County, Virginia.

Posted on by lgandre · 1 Comment

Okay Grads, Here’s My Advice:

thEXP33LMKIf you’ve perused the card aisle recently, I’d bet my teeth that this is the jist of what you read in the graduation section. And if you are like me, this is what you thought.

Follow your dreams. After all, It worked for My Little Pony, the Little Mermaid, and Rainbow Brite.

Believe in yourself. Because there are a few worse things you could believe in—like zombies, My Little Pony, and Rainbow Brite.

Reach for the sky. There’s nothing up there. But it will be a good stretch.

Be yourself. Don’t let anyone change you. Just be yourself at a big school on the other side of the state so I don’t have to put up with your selfish attitudes.

Enjoy the journey. And if you get a job, you might have enough money to travel, too.

Look inside yourself; then follow your heart. Wow. And they say texting and driving is dangerous!

What you believe, you can achieve. Yeah, I guess CNN still doesn’t believe in finding Flight 370.

What matters in life is not your success, but your significance. And you’ll never be able to accurately measure either one. That’s depressing.

YOU did it! That’s right…YOU opened your eyes every morning when the alarm your parents bought you went off. Then YOU put on the clothes your dad paid for, ate the breakfast your mom made, and one of them dropped YOU off at school carrying the lunch your mom packed. YOU stayed alive all day while your teachers tried to beat knowledge into your head against your will, and then YOU sat and griped at the kitchen table while your mom made you do your home work. And when it was all over, your parents made you go to bed so YOU would get enough rest to do it all again the next day. For a lot of years.

And now I’m writing YOU a check.

Needless to say, I am unimpressed with graduation cards.

So I googled the best graduation speeches. I read speeches given by everyone from Steve Jobs to Steven Colbert. And each of them were basically the same thing as reading the wall of cards at the grocery store. You did it! Now follow your dreams. You haven’t failed until you stopped trying. I don’t think there have been more commonly repeated lies (with maybe the exception of that little thing about how you could keep your insurance).

To be fair, there were a few statements here and there about hard work and giving back. But almost every speaker seemed to be trying to inspire graduates to ______________? I’m not sure. Be themselves??? Keep moving forward???   Think??? Why, at graduation, do we all feel so compelled to inspire and yet resort to such ridiculous statements like this card.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m all for celebrating milestones. And I think there is hard work involved in school—especially some school—that is worth rewarding. But it truly amazes me how many words a speaker can string together and say nothing. On graduation day, that seems to be completely acceptable. Even for non-politicians.

But what most graduates need is not as much recognition of their achievement, but preparation for change. When a graduation is followed by a major life changes—different location, different friends, different activities, different schedule, and student loan payments–all at once, it is little wonder that so many grads struggle. Good thing we’ve equipped them with helpful phrases such as: Like shining stars, every one of us has the potential to light up the darkness with our own particular brilliance.  [Author unknown.  I didn’t write that gem.]

I feel compelled to do better than that. And since no one asked me to speak at a graduation and since I can’t find any good cards, here is my advice:

Practically: Get a job. Any job.  Forget all this nonsense about doing what you love.  The fact is, you won’t love any job every day.  You will love a job most if you are good at it.  And you will get good at it by doing.  So yes, get a job you think you’ll like if you can.  And if you can’t, just get a job.

Work hard. Try to make your employer successful. Don’t be above any task. Learn everything you can learn—in your mind, don’t think of it as flipping hamburgers, think of it as learning how to run a business. You can build valuable skills just about anywhere.

Be kind to your co-workers. You will enjoy your job more and you will learn how important people skills are to anything you do. If your co-workers are obnoxious, weed-smoking, partiers, then take note of the fact that they work at a hamburger joint and for Pete’s sake, don’t try to be like them. Work that much harder so you can get out of there faster. Take the good and leave the bad, but be kind in the process.

Respect your boss. He knows more than you do. True story. Sure, he may not appreciate you for everything you are and do. He may not know all the hoops you had to jump through to carry out his instructions. He may not keep you informed of everything that you really should have been told. But that’s life. And one day, when you’re the boss, you’ll forgive him everything.

Emotionally: Be grateful.

If you want to be happy, be grateful. Gratitude can lift your spirits like a hot air balloon and an ungrateful heart will sink you right into the electrical wires. Remember how little of your achievements are really that—your achievements. Thank the people who have invested in you.

Spiritually: Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. All the other things will be added to you. (Matthew 6:33)

So there’s my advice for graduates.  And here is my free bonus advice: don’t get a tattoo.

And here’s my advice for non-graduates: Don’t waste your money on a card. Just write your check for $4.00 more and give it to them with a firm handshake. If they feel cheated, they can always go to the grocery store and buy themselves a card.

But I’ll bet my teeth that they won’t.

Posted on by lgandre

Trial by Social Media: If your goal is restoration, why are you doing more damage than necessary?

I’ve been incredibly saddened recently to read about the sin and/or alleged sin of two prominent Christian leaders. I’m disappointed to read of the confessions and or accusations posted on Facebook by perhaps well-intentioned Christian friends of mine.

Facebook?

Seriously, Christians. What are you thinking???

I’ve seen comments on such posts which say everything from “this is so sad” to “I hope he faces eternal punishment.”

These posts and the accompanying comments make me thoroughly ashamed of how we treat our fellow believers. And frankly, I don’t think they do anything to bring glory to the name of Christ.

Perhaps what gets me most is the people involved who claim to have followed Matthew 18. This has me particularly puzzled because I don’t read anything about the Internet or Facebook in Matthew 18. What I read in Matthew 18 are ways to deal with sin within the church. Do you hear me?  Within the church.

Scripture is clear that you should not take fellow believers to trial in front of a non-believing judge. How much more true is it then that we would not put a fellow believer on trial before millions of uninvolved and unauthoritative Facebook friends?  What justice is there in that?

At first, I read many of the articles. Tried to sift through them and figure out what are grains of truth. Then I realized that isn’t my job. Nor was it the job of the people I was hearing the facts from.  They were just stirring the pot.

Matthew 18 teaches that if you have something against a brother, you go to them directly.  If you are unable to work it out, you take a second witness to them directly. If they don’t repent, you take it to church.  Galatians 6 provides additional guidance indicating that the goal should be restoration and it should be handled by “you who are spiritual” and handled “in a spirit of gentleness.”  1 Corinthians 6 teaches that the church should act as the tribunal in disputes among Christians.  They hear the evidence. They weigh the facts. They test the credibility of the witness. They reach a conclusion. If they find the accused guilty, they administer the discipline.  And there is never a time when the sin is publicized for all the world to make a mockery of the Church and Christians. [I Corinthians 6:5]

But…I’m reminded. These are serious accusations.  Partly true in the case at hand. More serious perhaps than the original facts warranted. The inferences and implications cast a shadow much larger than the facts themselves. But, nevertheless, I’ll agree that when you raise a high standard, you’re going to be held to it. So, yes, they are serious.

The more serious the accusation, the more important it is that it is handled biblically.  Justly. Quietly.

Not trial by social media.

I even heard one group claim that they had followed Matthew 18 because they tried to confront the accused with the facts before they went public and he wouldn’t agree to their terms. Honestly?  That’s less justice than MSNBC gave George W. Bush.

And to top it all—I see Christians getting excited and reposting the report when the story was “finally” picked up by the mainstream media.  Like this was some political foray.

After numerous posts, I’m convinced that there are those out there who are convinced that justice isn’t done until everyone knows and is convinced the accused is guilty and the debt has been paid in shame and disgrace.

I thought about in relation to a Christian leader who had repented from sin and posted an article of confession on his website.  That took a lot of humility and I have no doubt he had already suffered profoundly. Why would you repost that in your Facebook feed?  Are you trying to give your non-Christian friends yet another reason not to believe?  I tried and I just can’t think of a single good reason to plaster that on your wall.

Is that how you would want your sin handled?  I think of my many, many sins.  I think of reading them on my friends’ Facebook pages.   As if sin’s own consequences were not painful enough and everyone wanted a turn throwing a stone at me.   I can envision every feeble reminder of my merits met with, “Why are you defending her?  She’s a sinner!”

Because I am. It’s true.

And so are you.

So if you’re a Christian—and by that I mean you have trusted Christ as your Savior from sin — then the only comment you should have to any of these posts is “this is me.”  “But for God’s grace–maybe even despite God’s grace–this is me.”

That’s not to say we shouldn’t deal with sin. We certainly should. And the witnesses to the facts should say something if they see a pattern of unrepentant sin.  And the sinners should be dealt with, taken from leadership when needed, and even put out of the church if necessary.

But…don’t put it on Facebook.

Any of you out there without sin can cast the first stone. The rest of us should drop our stones and go deal with our own issues and let the accused deal directly with the Savior. He knows how to handle sinners.  He has lots of experience both with repentant and unrepentant.   He knew when to forgive and when to chase them out of the church with a whip.

Trust Him. He knows the facts. He sees the heart. He tries the motives. He gives wisdom to those whom He puts in places of authority.

And He doesn’t need Facebook.

Let’s focus our energies on making sure the things we post are not only true, but also that they are right.

Posted on by lgandre · 1 Comment

And if you don’t have a good dad…

I know that I’m not the only one who believes that men should generally be treated with a little more respect.  In fact, I noticed that shortly after my blog, Matt Walsh published a blog along similar lines.  Of course, he said it better than I said it…which is probably why he has about 7 million readers to my 70.

Just the same, I found myself burdened for some loved ones who came to mind who perhaps do not have reason to respect men or be particularly grateful to their dads (or husbands).  We all make mistakes, but as the leaders in their homes, when they blow it, a dad’s mistakes can affect a lot of people for a long time.

Take this, for example:

Her dad left when she was six.  He ran away with his secretary—he was forty two, she was eighteen.  He had been married to her mother for twenty years and together they had had seven children.  All who had died except one.

This was back in 1928.  People just didn’t do this sort of thing.  There was no alimony, there was no child support.  Just a single mother suddenly on her own trying to make a living after twenty years of homemaking in a world that didn’t have many employment opportunities for women.   

It was a disgrace.

When she was 10, her father gave her a bicycle.  That is the only thing she ever remembers he gave her.  He was never affectionate.  He never told her he loved her.  He rarely came to visit and when he did, she would often run and hide.

And when he died, she learned of it from a friend who saw his obituary in the Atlanta Journal.  But he had already been out of her life for a long time.

A bad dad?  Yes, I think you could put one mark in that category.  Perhaps he didn’t want to be; perhaps he didn’t mean to be.  But he made decisions that sort of blew it for the “happy family” scenario.  After that, it was just damage control.  Unsuccessful damage control.

And unfortunately he was not the only one.  There are others out there, husbands and fathers who have treated their families rather shabbily.  I have read some men’s commentary on this (including a humorous rendition by Dave Barry) who conclude—we’re guys.  We’re going to do dumb things.  Don’t expect much and you won’t be disappointed.  If we want to be responsible, we will be.  If we don’t, deal with it.

But I’m not buying it.  Not at all.

I’m not going to let the few, the irresponsible rob me of my reason to respect men in general.  And I hope, even if you’ve been hurt by a man, that you won’t either.

Keep loving.  Keep trusting.  Keep expecting.

Expect them to stand up and be a leader.  Expect them to be faithful (and forgive them when they try imperfectly).  Expect them to work hard, and cheer them on when they do.  Expect them to set goals—even some wild and crazy ones that they won’t quite be able to pull off—and help them try anyway.   Expect them to get worn out and broken from time to time–and when they do, be there to remind them of their strengths.

Because this is the stuff respect is made of.  You cannot respect a man if you expect nothing good from him.  You can use him, you can pity him, but you can’t respect him.

And men need respect—it is what good relationships are built on. As Christians, we should never, never, never give up on good relationships.   Imperfect, yes.  Broken, at times.  But able to be forgiven, restored, and rebuilt because that is the beauty of the grace God gives us to love and respect.

If you’ve been hurt in the past, I’m sorry.  If the person who hurt you never asked forgiveness, I’m sorry.  But don’t use this as an excuse to buy into Dave Barry’s pretend standard for men.  It sounds funny—especially when he says it—and there may be a few immature men out there of whom it is true.  And I suspect they hate it about themselves.  I think there are very few men out there who truly don’t care at all.

I stand by my earlier conclusion: if you have a good man in your life—dad, husband, son, whatever, be sure to show them a healthy amount of respect.  Tell them thank you.  Be sure they know that you know that they are not Mr. Bernstein.  Or Dave Berry.

Posted on by lgandre · 2 Comments

Stop the War on Dads

2012-06-16 11.40.10I just finished reading an article about the virtues of motherhood.  It sang the praises of the selfless women in our world who have
given their lives to the monumental task of raising responsible human beings. And rightfully so.  You can never write too much about or try too hard to say “thanks” to moms.

But somehow I feel like we all tend to fall off the wagon before we get to the part about thanking dads.  In fact, sometimes, I feel like dads are the one group of people in this world that it is still politically correct to demonize.  And frankly, Hollywood is probably nicer to demons.

Seriously—most of the movies, books, and shows—especially those for kids and families–in this generation seem to portray the father either an absentee, a mercenary workaholic, or a just plain terrible person.

It’s like open season on dads.  And the credibility rating of fathers of animated figures doesn’t seem to be much higher than those of human beings.

Take the Berenstain Bears for example.  Mr. Berenstain has about the IQ of Mr. Potato Head.  He is the third problem child that Mrs. Berenstain must patiently train out of all his foolish ways.  See what I mean about political correctness?  If the roles were reversed, every woman’s libber in the country would have set fire to the tree house and sent the fireman in for the wife and kids only.  There would be a grizzly bear coup. 

But no one seems to object to a storyline that paints the father as the deadbeat whose sole goal in life is to see how many hours he can spend on the couch drinking beer and changing channels.  And everyone sympathizes with the doting mother that sits by herself at her son’s T-ball games because her husband is on a business trip.  And the only logical conclusion is that he doesn’t care a flip about his son, or his wife, or their lives, or their feelings, or their futures.  He is all about himself and his world of business.

Stop the madness!

I’m not saying there are no deadbeat dads out there.  I’m sure there are some.  But I know a lot of dads and the percentage that fit the Hollywood stereotypes is incredibly small.  Like smaller than the percentage of law enforcement officers that commit crimes on a regular basis.

The dads I know work hard so that their families can have not only the things they need, but also some of the things they want.  The dads I know like going to their kids’ events (maybe not 2 hour piano recitals, but everything else).  The dads I know make plans for their kids’ futures; take pride in their kids’ accomplishments; ache over their kids’ frustrations; and even cry over their kids’ bad choices.  In short, I think it’s fair to say most dads truly love their kids and it shows.

I’m not writing this because I have the perfect dad (although I do), but because dads – all of them–should be appreciated and respected—whether or not they are perfect.

If the goal of the war on dads is to discourage every dad from even trying, then perhaps Hollywood is doing a good job.  Because I surmise that the percentage of bad dads only goes up as expectations go down and respect disappears completely.  In a sense, the world of bad dads is becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy as boys who saw the dead beat dads on TV sink to the levels of Mr. Berenstain and  Homer Simpson.

But we don’t have to let it be that way.

Dads get spit up on too.  Dads give up their free time too.  Dads lose significant amounts of their wives’ time and attention when they welcome a new little life into their home.  And most of them do it so graciously and so often that we will forget that they are making any sacrifice at all.

If you know a dad who isn’t all he could be, surprise him by challenging him with words of encouragement.  Respect his position of authority and inspire him to lead.  That’s what he was designed to do.

And if you know a dad who is all he can be, thank him often.  Don’t wait until Father’s Day to give him soap on a rope.  Make sure he knows that you know that he is not Mr. Berenstain.

I’ll start.  Next post.